I'd Follow You to the Great Unknown, Off to A World We Call Our Own
by Emrys MK
Summary: Uni is over for Merlin and Arthur, but it isn't a happy time for either as graduation looms. After a year apart because of an idiotic decision, will Arthur be able to right this wrong before it is too late and he never sees Merlin again? Modern AU, Merthur. There is also Arthur/Gwen, Lancelot/Gwen, Morgana, Gwaine, Lancelot, Uther, Hunith, Will, and Kigharrah.


Merlin surveyed the empty bedroom before him and listened to the familiar sound of Gwaine jangling keys in his pocket. "So, I guess this is it," he said sulkily, pushing himself off the door and making his way through the labyrinth of boxes and unpacked odds-and-ends that littered the hallway and living room. He tried not to think of all the fun times he, Gwaine, Lancelot, and Arthur had shared over the years. "Next time I see you, we'll be graduating."

Gwaine picked up a box and nodded, decidedly not looking at Merlin, but when Merlin unlocked and opened the door, Gwaine turned towards him and smiled. The usually crinkly eyes weren't present. "Yeah, but don't think for one minute that just because we're leaving this flat, you're rid of me."

"Good. I'd hate to think I'd be rid of you at long last," Merlin deadpanned teasingly, trying (and failing rather spectacularly) not to smile. "Need any help?"

"That won't be necessary. Elena's driving up, so she'll help me finish packing and loading the car this evening. Besides, it's freezing. You have no business being outside until you leave." Gwaine's eyes roamed over Merlin appreciatively as he let out a chuckle. "How I never managed to get you and that lanky, delectable body of yours in my bed, I'll never know."

Merlin grinned and wanted to say something flippant, such as it wasn't for a lack of effort on Gwaine's part, but as soon as the lighthearted thought came, it flitted away like sand in an hourglass, only to be replaced with the weight of despair.

Maybe if he _had_ ended up in Gwaine's bed four years ago, he wouldn't be as depressed and lonely as he now was. But maybes and what ifs were no different than those large, white, fluffy clouds that took shape in the sky one second, only to transform in the next.

Timing was everything.

And Merlin knew that he and Gwaine would have never worked. Gwaine wasn't into commitments (although he and Elena were still going at it hot and heavy, and it had been nearly two months, so…), and Merlin had never been one for one-night stands and flings to satisfy an urge.

"One day, Merlin Emrys," Gwaine said as he caressed Merlin's cheek affectionately, "_someone_ is going to mend that broken heart of yours, and I will be sad it isn't me." He then kissed Merlin on his forehead before leaving.

For some time after, Merlin stood there, looking at the empty space where Gwaine had been, and wondered if he was right.

Merlin hoped so.

At the very least, he hoped someone could help him feel again. There had been a time not so long ago when he had loved life and lived it to the fullest. Now he was doing good to put one foot in front of the other.

It was as if all the joy had been sapped from him.

But there was no time to dwell on his sad state of affairs at the moment. There was much to do and not much time to do it.

Boxes surrounded him, leaving very little walking room—Gwaine had carved out a small path from the hallway to the kitchen before they had gone to bed, and Merlin had made another from the living room to the door when he'd forced himself out of bed earlier—and Merlin wondered how it was that not even twelve hours before, the living room had looked lived-in, without a box in sight, and his and Gwaine's friends had filled the small space for their annual end-of-term party/this-year graduation celebration.

He wasn't at all sure everything would fit inside his car, but it would have to, wouldn't it? Merlin sighed and leant against the wall, overwhelmed and already missing what he was soon to leave. He had grown to love this little flat and all that it represented.

It would be an odd feeling, waking up the following morning at his house, in his bed.

Yes, he would be coming back in a few weeks for graduation, but that was merely a formality, a ceremony more for his mum and uncle than for him. This… leaving his flat, was _his_ rite of passage, and it was weighing far more heavily on him than he had thought it would.

Four years earlier, when he left Ealdor and first entered this flat, he had been homesick and remembered wanting to leave and return home to his friends and, most importantly, his girlfriend, Freya. His mother had assured him that it would get better and that he would eventually love it here.

And he had.

But it had taken him a fair few weeks to get comfortable with his new surroundings and his three roommates.

Lancelot had been the first of his roommates to arrive, and Merlin had initially thought that he would be one of those charmers who would have a different person in his bed each night. Thankfully, that unfair judgment had turned out to be wrong. Lancelot had turned out to be the perfect roommate in every way.

With the exception of part of their second year and the entirety of their third, when Lancelot studied overseas, the two had been thick as thieves. Lancelot had moved into another flat when he returned, but the two remained close, and Merlin knew he would always be able to count on him.

There was a knock at the door.

It was probably Gwaine, coming back to ask for his extra set of keys that he kept in the kitchen for emergencies. Merlin chuckled at the thought. How many times had Gwaine locked the keys in his car?

Gwaine, the second of his roommates to arrive, was the opposite of Merlin and Lancelot in almost every way, but he was loyal to a fault and had got both of them out of more than a few dicey situations over the years, which was quite ironic since he was the roommate parents warned their children about—he drank too much, slept with everyone and anyone that flitted their eyes at him, and skipped class on a regular basis.

Merlin could only hope that there were more _Gwaines_ out there to help the poor sods who lived in this flat next term. If they were anything like Merlin, they were going to need someone to talk to, to spill their innermost fears to, and to cry on their shoulder when the one they loved above all others told them they were sorry but they couldn't do this….

"Coming," Merlin said, banishing that unwanted memory from his thoughts as he stepped around a box that was not his or Gwaine's. He studied it and his stomach knotted when he realised whose it was.

Gwaine must have found it and set it by the door.

Bugger.

Merlin looked through the peephole and closed his eyes as he took in a breath. Why was it that when it rained, it poured? He reluctantly opened the door and stepped aside, trying very hard not to show his emotions as he pointed to the box. At least he wouldn't have to contact Arthur now.

"Oh good, it's here," Arthur said, relief in his voice, albeit with a look of panic as he looked at the box, then at Merlin. "Sorry for not calling, but I was passing the castle when I remembered I'd left this when I moved out last year."

Merlin swallowed. "You shouldn't have bothered. I could have fit it in my car. I know you are on a tight schedule, needing to get back for the big party your father is having for you this evening," he responded almost nonchalantly, trying very hard to sound perfectly composed and not at all bitter. But, as he was just barely holding it together, and as he was indeed bitter as hell about everything revolving around Arthur—had it been necessary for him to mention the castle, which he knew was near sacred to Merlin?

Damn him.

He turned away and tried to find something to do—Arthur had always been able to read him like a book. "I should get back to packing."

"I'll go then. As you mentioned, I am in a hurry, but I wanted to say one more time that I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Merlin."

Merlin couldn't help the derisive chuckle as he dropped whatever it was he'd picked up, and turned around, certain that if looks could kill, Arthur would now be dead dead dead. There was so much Merlin could say in response to such a meaningless comment, but he was emotionally exhausted; it was best he just let Arthur have his say and go.

"I know it is little consolation now, and you probably don't want to hear it," Arthur said softly, "but I truly am sorry. I feel awful for what I did to you."

"Well then I'll just have to find comfort in that, won't I," Merlin chided churlishly. He really needed for Arthur to leave. Now. Did Arthur really think this little talk would help?

"I want you to be happy," Arthur added, his voice now quivering.

Merlin opened his mouth to ask Arthur to leave, but he knew that there was no way he could say what he wanted to without completely losing his composure and doing the one thing he had sworn to himself that he would not do—cry in front of Arthur—so he closed his eyes to rein in his out-of-control emotions.

After another few seconds' thought, when he felt somewhat more composed, he decided he had things he needed to say, and Arthur was going to listen whether he wanted to or not.

"Damn you, Arthur. You don't care about my happiness; if you did you wouldn't have allowed things to go down as they did. You made a mockery of everything we ever meant to each other. You had the perfect opportunity handed to you and you decided to take the easy way out. Well, I hope you're happy." Merlin then let a mirthless laugh escape. "But of course you are; now that you have Gwen by your side again, all is well, isn't it? Let's hope you treat her better than you treated me. Oh, but then again, she is a girl, isn't she? No need to worry about whether or not _Daddy Dearest_ will approve of her."

"Merlin, pl—"

"I'm not finished. Do you know how that felt, Arthur? You all but telling me that what we had meant nothing to you? If you only knew how ridiculous you acted that night. You had no reason to act as you did. I really should clue you in, but I don't think I will. I'll let you work that one out for yourself, and when you do I hope you realise what a complete clotpole you've been. Because you will realise what you've lost. I know you will, because I know you better than anyone else."

"Ple—"

Merlin ignored him. "I have had four years to learn you. Do you know how hard it was for me to admit that I liked you as more than a friend that Christmas? Do you have any idea what I went through to admit that maybe I wasn't as straight as I'd thought? Do you know how hard it was to give myself to you? Do you understand what I gave away that night? Do you have a clue how much I loved you? I know I'm not anything special, but gods I would have done just about anything for you, Arthur. I was just this skinny, shy nerd boy from Ealdor who felt more at home in my imagination than in reality, and you were the posh son of Uther Pendragon. You made me rethink everything I knew about myself. Do you know how hard it was for me to come out to my mother? She didn't have a problem with it, but I did. I didn't want to be gay or bi. I didn't want to fall in love with a boy. But slowly, I accepted it, and I accepted that I loved you. Damn it, Arthur. All you had to do was say yes that night. Obviously, we weren't a secret to anyone, so why couldn't you have just said yes?"

Merlin closed his eyes, both relieved and upset that he'd finally told Arthur how he felt, as muddled and jumbled as his thoughts were.

"May I speak or do you have more to say?" Arthur asked, his voice calm.

Merlin gave a curt nod as he opened his eyes.

"Most of what you said I am well aware, Merlin," Arthur finally said, his voice more shaky now as he picked up the box and cleared his throat. "But you are wrong about one thing. You are everything good and special in life; don't ever sell yourself short."

"But you did, Arthur," said Merlin, not at all happy to see Arthur looking sad, but it served him right. "Now, if you don't mind, I have things to do before I leave, and as you have said, you need to get home, so please leave."

"You know why I did what I did, Merlin," Arthur said, his voice breaking as he turned and walked through the doorway.

When the door closed, Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and couldn't stop the tears that fell. Yes, he did know the _why_, but he also knew Arthur was very much mistaken in his assumptions.

A dam broke and Merlin found himself sobbing, his head in his hands as he leant against the door and slid down.

Damn it.

Hadn't he already cried enough over Arthur? Of course he had, but his mother once told him that a cathartic cry was sometimes the best medicine to cure a sad heart.

Merlin doubted his heart would ever be cured of this hurt Arthur had caused him.

"Damn you, Arthur," Merlin cried, big fat ugly tears cascading down his face, one after the other. "Why couldn't you have told the truth?" Merlin would never understand why Arthur hadn't. "And why did I have to fall in love with you?" Freya had been so much easier to understand—she hadn't been difficult at all, and even when Merlin had ended things between them, they'd remained close—it had always been effortless with her. "And why did you have to be my roommate?" All of this would be a moot point if Arthur had never entered his life. He would have continued to see Freya, and they would more than likely be engaged by now.

But Arthur _had_ entered his life.

It had been two days after Lancelot and Gwaine arrived that Arthur barreled into their flat and Merlin's life, and from the beginning, Merlin had been doomed.

The younger Pendragon (everyone who could read and see knew who Arthur's father was) had proved from the first minute to be incredibly rude, and Merlin had despaired spending a day with him, but a week into term, when Merlin received a phone call telling him that his mother had been in an accident and nearly died, everything changed.

A week after his mother returned from hospital, Arthur had told Merlin about his own mother and how she died after giving birth to him. Merlin had heard bits and pieces of the tragic story over the years, but hearing it from the source had made it all the more sad.

And just like that the two had become the best of friends.

And more… although, the _more_ hadn't come until fifteen months later.

But from the moment they had bonded over their mothers, Merlin had found a joy in life that he hadn't known before. For the most part, Merlin's life until he had come to uni had been spent wishing he were somewhere else. His earliest memories were associated with him thinking about castles, jousting, chainmail, and serving. His schoolmates had thought him weird, and his mother had often worried that her son was living too much inside his mind. Merlin had truly been a wandering soul, searching for something elusive.

But Arthur had changed all of that. Not that Merlin had stopped his dreaming of these fantastical things, but it was as if with Arthur, Merlin had found that which he had always been searching for.

It had been a magical time.

His mobile beeped.

He fervently hoped it wasn't Arthur.

He retrieved it from his pocket. It was Lancelot.

_Is that Arthur's car I see in the car park? I'll be up in five._

Merlin scrubbed his eyes—there was no need to let Lancelot see his emotional breakdown.

As he waited for Lancelot, Merlin's eyes found a picture he thought he'd packed away long ago, and he looked at it longingly, wondering if Arthur had ever seen it.

Studying the image, Merlin yearned with every beat of his heart for that time to swallow him up and take him back. To have all those fun, memorable times ahead of him was what Merlin wanted. Instead, what he had was a whole lot of uncertainty.

Merlin heard the familiar jangle of keys and wiped away his tears as he stood, needing to get back to his packing. If he were lucky he'd be on the road in two hours and make it home in time for supper. There was still much to do, but he was determined to get it all done. He began wrapping more of his things.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lancelot asked, concern in his voice as he closed the door behind him. "Arthur called and told me he'd upset you again. I should have known that his coming by wouldn't end well."

Merlin had to try really hard not to laugh. Again? Arthur had hurt him again? There was no _again_. He shrugged. "So you knew he was coming by? How can you talk to him? And why does he think you'd want to?" Merlin whinged as he turned around and faced Lancelot.

"Gwen told me he was planning to stop by to get some things he'd left. And you know that Arthur and I are good now. It took some time, but I've accepted that Gwen is back with Arthur. She and I shared a few wonderful months, but that's in the past. Now we are just good friends."

Merlin rolled his eyes and almost didn't know how to respond. Anyone with eyes could see how much Lancelot missed Gwen—the two of them were made for each other. "Well, I am glad you are okay with how things are, but I'm not. What the hell right does Arthur have to care about my feelings, Lancelot?"

"No matter what happened, Merlin, and I am sure that whatever he did to hurt you was very wrong, the two of you once loved each other. Arthur will always care about you." Lancelot knelt and picked up a picture frame, the same one Merlin had been looking at seconds earlier, and smiled sadly as he looked up at Merlin. "From the garden party. I remember that day well; you had such a huge grin on your face when you got back. I had no idea why, but I guess even then you and Arthur had a connection that no one had discovered yet. I'm surprised you are keeping this; I'd thought you'd want to rid yourself of all evidence of Arthur and his family."

Merlin took the picture of him and Arthur smiling goofily, Arthur making rabbit ears over Merlin's head as Uther Pendragon stood behind them, smiling as he looked at his son and his son's friend.

If only Arthur had seen this picture and studied it...

Yes, Merlin had considered throwing it away, but how could he?

It represented everything about him and Arthur—the image in the frame told a story that words would never be able to equal.

He looked at Lancelot and sighed. "But someone had discovered our connection."

Arthur rifled through the box until he found the familiar poster-board card, the words _Arthur and Merlin_ staring back at him in large red and blue letters, hearts, clouds, unicorns, and rainbows covering the other bits of the card. Merlin had made it for Arthur's twentieth birthday and had given it, along with a dozen yellow roses, to him after they'd gone out to eat. Arthur glanced into the corner of the box and swallowed as he saw the two roses he'd kept.

He roughly wiped away an errant tear as he opened the card.

_How is it that I fell in love with the biggest prat that ever lived? You walked into my life as haughty and entitled as Uther Pendragon's son would of course be, and then you proceeded to tear down every wall I put up between you and me. You became my best mate. You'll never know how much just having you in my life brightened my each day. But that was only the beginning. A year later you showed me that there was more to us. I was scared and unprepared for your love, but you gave me my space and let me figure out for myself what I wanted. And what I wanted was you. But I was frightened. How is it that I had lived for nineteen years without knowing a truth about myself that was always there? You told me that love was love and it didn't matter if it was between a boy and a girl, or two boys. I do recall you saying that you would draw the line with bestiality, though (good to know I will never have to compete with the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, Arthur). Anyway, thank you for being you and for putting up with me and my goofy, nerdy ways. I love you. Never forget that._

Arthur wiped away more tears and cleared his throat. He and Merlin were finished and no amount of wishing for it to not be so would change that.

His mobile rang.

Well, he knew who it wouldn't be. He grabbed it from the other seat and tried to smile.

Gwen.

He answered and put it on speaker, hoping he had rid himself of his previous tears. It wouldn't do for her to know how much this day was affecting him. "I take it your meeting with Annis went well this morning?" he asked jovially. Maybe a bit too much so.

"It did. I was hoping to catch you before you left to see if you wanted to have lunch together. I hoped to get away before noon, but that isn't going to happen. A few of Annis's students need some help so I agreed to stay and help them. Unfortunately, that means I won't make it in time for your party tonight. I'm sorry, but it can't be helped. You aren't too disappointed, are you?" she asked, sounding sad.

Yes, Arthur was disappointed, but it wouldn't last. He was happy that his fiancée was the type of person to help others—he would never begrudge her using her knowledge to advance others' academic careers. And, this party that his father was throwing for him was not at all for Arthur. It was for the stuffy suits that worked with his father—it was an opportunity for them to tell _the incomparable Uther Pendragon_ what a fine job he had done in rearing Arthur by himself (everyone would, of course, ignore the fact that servants had done most of the rearing), and for him to tell them that if not for their fine work to keep his company thriving he wouldn't have been able to do any of it.

It was at best a love fest, at worst an embarrassment of riches. Arthur was well-versed in these occasions and had learnt long ago to smile and nod, and to hope that he made it through the evening without having any little old ladies pinching his cheeks and telling him how adorable he was as a child.

Gwen having managed to get out of this engagement raised Arthur's respect for her. "We have yet to marry and already you have learnt how to evade these events. I might need lessons," he said, laughter in his voice. Gwen chuckled. "I'm already on the road, but maybe we can have dinner later this week."

"Yes, maybe Friday or Saturday? What's wrong, Arthur?" she then asked.

Damn. Arthur should have known Gwen wouldn't be fooled. Like Merlin, she seemed to have a sixth sense that honed in on Arthur. He thought about lying, but nothing good would come from that.

"Just the stress of leaving uni, I guess. I didn't think it would get to me as it has. Then there's the fact that I'm going home. I don't think I'm ready for that."

And it was the truth. Arthur had gone home for holidays and midterms, but he had always had uni to return to. Now he wouldn't, and the thought was smothering.

"I know you have to go home for the party tonight, but you can always come to mine for a few to decompress. I know you said no living together, but this would only be for a few days."

It was tempting, but Arthur's heart wasn't in it. Especially after the last hour. He started to tell her that, but felt as the lump in his throat seemed to grow. "Gwen, I need to go. I'll ring you when I get home."

Almost as soon as he clicked off with Gwen, Lancelot texted. Arthur was almost afraid to open it, but he did.

_Lancelot: Can you tell me why you broke Merlin's heart?_

_Arthur: You know why._

_Lancelot: No, I don't because you never explained it to me. Merlin tried, but he had a near-emotional breakdown so I told him to stop. But I think I finally get it, Arthur, and my question to you is why on earth would you let that stop you?_

_Arthur: You wouldn't understand, Lancelot._

_Lancelot: Hm. Well, I think the way you are treating Merlin is shitty. And here is some food for thought… have you asked your father what he thinks about this? I know the answer to this because of course you don't want your father to know about you liking men. It's too late now, but maybe in future you should consult with daddy dearest before breaking your best friend's heart. He just might surprise you._

Arthur would respond more later, but he needed to get home.

_Arthur: duly noted_

Arthur turned up the volume on his playlist and tried to drown out his thoughts, but that was impossible, so he resigned himself to memories of him and Merlin playing in his mind like a movie projector.

And the very first memory was the day he and Merlin met.

Miffed because his accommodations in the new, exclusive suite of flats on the west end of campus had somehow been given to someone else, a moody Arthur had entered the only flat that had a spot for him, prepared to hate his new roommates.

Gwaine had been easy enough to dislike—he was that person his father had warned Arthur about. The two had quickly learned to tolerate one another, and Arthur now got on quite well with him, but in the beginning it hadn't been pretty. Arthur had made it his life's mission to detest Gwaine.

Lancelot, on the other hand, well, how in the world was anyone to hate him? He exuded charm, and his manners were impeccable.

(The fact that he was still friendly with Arthur spoke volumes. Gwen and Lancelot hadn't been together long, but it had been enough time for Arthur to know that Lancelot had loved Gwen. In fact, Arthur knew in his heart that Lancelot still loved her. For all Arthur knew, Gwen might still be in love with Lancelot as well, but, like her former boyfriend, Gwen wasn't one to rock the boat. And Arthur dared not look too closely lest his happy little perfect life crumble before his eyes).

Then there was Merlin.

Arthur had been doomed from the moment their eyes met, and it scared the hell out of him because he had no idea why he had such an immediate and strong response to the boy who looked like a waif.

It had taken him a while to figure it out, but once Arthur had accepted that he was completely and hopelessly smitten with Merlin, he had broken things off with Gwen and after many many months had decided that he needed to be honest with Merlin.

Initially, things hadn't gone at all well. Merlin had said he was in love with Freya and that he had never liked a boy before.

But then Arthur had taken Merlin to his ancestral home—the castle that sat on a hill on the outskirts of Camelot—and that had seemed to be a pivotal turning point for them. Arthur would never forget the look of wonderment on Merlin's face as they stood on the roof overlooking Camelot.

It had taken another month, but finally, Merlin had come around and made Arthur happier than he'd ever been when he told him he wanted to maybe try and see if this thing between them could work.

And for two years, it had worked beautifully.

And then, in one day, everything had gone to hell because Arthur hadn't been truthful.

Merlin was right. All he had to do was say yes. But, had he said yes…

He should have said yes, no matter what his father's response would have been. But it was too late now.

Arthur had royally buggered everything up and nothing would ever make it right.

It was his fate to forever wonder what if, but as Merlin had often told him, what ifs were bad things to think about; nothing at all good came from thinking about those elusive impossibilities.

When he pulled into the drive of his father's home (it didn't feel like his home any longer), Arthur was an emotional mess, but he had to change that quickly when his father met him outside and began helping him unload his car. It was odd, to be sure. Servants were there as well, as they always were when Arthur arrived home, but not once had Uther Pendragon ever helped his son unload his car. Not that Arthur was against such—he was actually pleased—but he was wary as to the why.

Had he done something wrong?

Uther Pendragon was not a forgiving man. He was strict, unyielding, and most of the time he was closed-off and unreachable.

Was it any wonder that Arthur seemed to be following in his father's footsteps?

Thankfully, his father didn't say much as they unloaded the car, but he looked worried, as Arthur had known he would. When they'd last talked, his father had asked if all was well. Of course, Arthur had lied.

But lying was easy to do over the mobile. In person, it was not so easy.

"Are you and Gwen having problems?" his father asked as he closed Arthur's boot and grabbed a suitcase.

"We're fine, father," Arthur countered quickly, not willing to talk about this. "I'm just knackered. We all got together last night and stayed out late, so I was up early this morning packing. I think I'll kip before the party."

As they walked towards the house, Arthur noticed how tired his father looked, and he wondered if his father was tired because of him. Arthur knew he wasn't an easy son to have. He and his father butted heads at every turn, but the last thing Arthur wanted was to add any more stress to his father's life.

"You do that, Arthur," rejoined his father, a small frown on his face. "Tonight promises to be a long one, and if I recall my days at uni correctly, I can imagine you and your friends had yourselves a night to remember. I'll just say one more thing then be on my way. Please be sure about you and Gwen, Arthur. She is lovely and I look forward to her joining our family next year, but I have a feeling that there's something not quite right here. I've thought this for some time. I've kept quiet because this is yours and Gwen's to deal with. You are an adult and are more than capable of making your own decisions, but as your father, I do feel a responsibility. Perhaps I am overstepping, but I want you to be happy, my son. Please be very sure before you make any lifelong commitments that you might soon want to get out of."

Arthur had no idea how to respond to that. How was it that his father had been so spot on about it all? Four years earlier, when he was leaving for uni, his father had told him that no matter how far apart they were, he would always be able to sense when Arthur was in trouble. It had been an odd conversation, and Arthur had probably rolled his eyes and scoffed at such a comment, but now he thought back on that conversation with something akin to awe.

There was no way he would let his father know that, however, but he would talk to him later about some of it. He did need advice, and as much as he and his father often didn't see eye to eye, there was no one better suited to give the advice Arthur sought.

"I will, Father," was all Arthur planned to say, but when his father continued to look overly worried as he set down the box and luggage he had carried into the house, Arthur cleared his throat and attempted something akin to a smile. "We will visit tonight." Then he made his way upstairs and deposited what he was carrying in the hallway before walking into his room and closing the door.

He looked around and felt lonely. At one time these walls had been filled with images of him and his years before uni, but all of that was long gone, replaced with a fresh coat of white paint, new curtains, new furniture and décor. It was no longer Arthur's room, yet he was expected to stay here.

He fell on his bed and hoped sleep would take him away from this nightmare. Maybe he could get a few hours of sleep before he had to get ready for the party that he didn't want to go to.

**Chapter Two**

Turning onto the gravel road that would take him to the house he shared with his mother, Merlin was sad to see that her car wasn't there; he thought she was getting off early today, but maybe she had gone to the grocers—she did, after all, know that her son was a human garbage disposal (not that you would know from looking at him).

He unloaded his car, and by the time he had everything in his room he heard his mother pull into the drive.

He couldn't wait to see her. She always made everything alright. He could be having the worst day in the history of man and she would know just what to say to make things better. Of course, all the problems would still be there, but she did know how to make difficult situations more bearable.

For a time, after starting uni, Merlin had tried to distance himself from his mother's overprotectiveness, thinking it time for him to step out on his own and take control of his destiny, but soon he had realised that she meant well, and now he never complained when she overstepped or treated him as a child rather than the adult he was.

There were those who had no mother to do any of those things, and the thought alone was enough to make Merlin want to weep.

"Merlin?" she called out as she made her way to his room. "Oh, my love, you are a sight for sore eyes." She pulled him into a hug and looked at him.

Merlin didn't even try to hide his feelings—it had never worked in the past.

She sat on the bed and patted the area next to her. "Today couldn't have been easy for you. I know I advised you against going to see Arthur, but I know you too well. Did you go see him?"

Merlin sat down and shook his head. "He came to the party last night. I wasn't happy about it, but there were enough people there that we hardly talked. I thought that would be the last I'd have to see him until graduation, but he left a box last year when he moved out, so he came by this morning to get it. We talked and I might have lost my temper and said some things."

"Oh, Merlin," she said as she caressed his cheek and smoothed out his unruly hair. "I am so sorry. I wish I could take this hurt away from you."

And Merlin knew she would if she could. He tried to smile. "I wouldn't have gone to see him, Mum. I made peace with what happened and I was ready to come home and be done with him, but there was last night, and then he came by, and seeing him, Mum, it was just too much. All those memories came back and it hurt."

"I know, love. You've been through so much this year. Now, as much as I would love for you to tell me everything right now, I need to get supper started, and I hardly think you want to share everything with your mum. So I think you need to go wash your face, then call Will. He has been asking when you were getting home for the past few days, so maybe you can do us all a favour and go over there." She chuckled, which in turn had Merlin doing the same.

"Yeah, I'll do that. Maybe I'll call first."

Twenty minutes later Merlin plopped down on Will's bed and closed his eyes as he listened to Will finishing up his conversation with his boyfriend, Gilli.

Although he had never met him, Merlin felt as if he knew the boy from all that Will had told him, and truth be told, Merlin found himself somewhat jealous. Not because he wanted Will for himself—he didn't, although he should because he knew Will would treat him well and love him unconditionally forever—but because Will was in love and happy, something Merlin missed and longed for.

"Okay, I have kept quiet because you didn't need me hounding you while you were away at uni, and you all but shut me out over summer hols, but now that you have left, can you please tell me what went down with you and Arthur last year? You've been moping around here for the past twelve months as if the world were about to end. I can assure you it is not, so what gives?" asked Will as he set his mobile on the bedside table.

Merlin sighed. So much for Will easing into the questions. But, really, Will had been great—he had left Merlin to it and hadn't pushed… too much. That was no doubt down to Gilli, as was Will's new positive outlook on things. Merlin was quite curious to meet this bloke that seemed to agree with Will.

"Remember last year when Uncle Gaius and Mum came to Camelot for the Winter Banquet?" Merlin asked, thinking it best to begin there.

"Yeah, you were all nervous and worried about what to wear. I wondered why since you never seemed to care before."

"Yeah, well, Arthur's father was going to be there. I had met him before—as one of Arthur's friends—but this was to be the first time I met him as his son's boyfriend." Merlin hoped Will would understand, but as his friend didn't give a rat's arse about rich people, and thought that others trying to kiss up to them made no sense, Merlin didn't have much hope that this time would be any different.

"Let me guess… Daddy Malfoy was not impressed that his son was dating someone whose house could probably fit inside his son's bedroom?"

Merlin rolled his eyes and frowned, but it couldn't help but turn into a small smile. From a young age Merlin had pretended to be Harry Potter—his mother had made him a Gryffindor robe, scarf, and cloak when he was five, and Merlin had worn them almost every day after school until they no longer fit him—and from the beginning of Merlin and Arthur, Will had referred to Arthur as Draco Malfoy, because, well, the likelihood of Merlin ever dating a male had been about as likely as Draco Malfoy dating Harry Potter. But, as Merlin and Will knew from all the fanfiction that was on the Internet, Harry and Draco made a damned good couple (If only Merlin and Arthur's story had turned out as wonderful and perfect as some of those fanfictions). His frown returned. "Erm, no, that was not quite how it went down. Daddy Pendragon didn't have the chance to approve or disapprove because Arthur got cold feet and asked me if I would go as his friend."

"Oh," was Will's clipped reply, but now he looked sullen, and Merlin knew that if Arthur were here at this very moment, Will would no doubt give him a piece of his mind. The thought made Merlin grin.

"Yeah, _oh_ pretty much sums up the way I felt when he asked. I told him I would, but that I wasn't happy about it. So yeah, we had the banquet and I tried to be happy about it. Mum and Uncle Gaius helped to take my mind off things by telling me about what was going on here. Things were going fine until Arthur's father asked Arthur and me if we were really friends or if we were more. I nearly died then and there. I couldn't believe he asked that. I mean, he didn't seem upset or anything. Maybe a bit concerned, but yeah, most parents probably would. I didn't know what to do or say, but Arthur jumped in and said that of course we were only friends."

"So, knowing you, you left in a huff."

"Damn right I did. You would have been proud of me, Will."

"Of course I'm proud of you, Merlin. That was a shitty thing he did."

"Yeah, it was. I was hurt and I let him have it outside before I left. He told me he had no choice and that he needed time to figure out a way to tell his father. I didn't respond to that. He called and came by several times over the next few weeks, but I refused to see him. Then he stopped. Next thing I knew, he and Gwen were dating again. And there you have it."

"Why would you want that loser back?" Will asked, not even attempting to hide his disgust.

What? Merlin hadn't said one word about wanting Arthur back. He was about to say this very thing, but who was he kidding? He did want Arthur back, and no amount of denying it would change that. "Because I love him, Will. Before him I was content—Freya and I were doing fine and I was ready to spend the rest of my life with her. But then Arthur came along, and even as it took me a year and a half to realise that I was in love with him, I think I knew from the beginning that he would change my life. He's the one who made me realise I can like boys as well as girls. He was the one who taught me what love really is. I wish that it was easy to move on from that, but it isn't. For two years we did everything together. Really, it was three because even before we were officially together we did everything together. Wherever Arthur was, you would find me. Then one day it all stopped. It's hard, Will. I can't explain it to you, but I think you might have an idea now that you have Gilli. You would be devastated if tomorrow he went one way and you went the other, wouldn't you?" When Will looked murderous, put up a hand, and shook his head, Merlin stopped.

"Yeah, I understand. I don't even want to think about that happening, Merlin," Will said, his voice somewhat strained. "But tell me this. He told you he needed to figure out how to tell his father. Do you think he is with Gwen because he doesn't want his father to know he was with a man?"

"I don't presume to know his reasons, Will, and I'm sure it's more complicated than that, but yeah, that seems to be the heart of it."

"But didn't you tell me a few years ago that Uther Pendragon knew that his son and you were involved and that he was fine with it?"

That wasn't exactly how it had happened, but Will had the gist of it. "Yeah, he seemed fine with it."

"So, tell Arthur. I mean, if we're being honest, I want you to leave this alone and move on because it seems quite obvious that this Arthur bloke isn't worth your spit, but as you aren't ready to let go, go to him and tell him that what he thinks is wrong. He seems to be a real arse to even care what his father thinks, but it seems that he does need to know that his father is okay with his son being gay or bi or whatever he is. I know I would want to know if I were him."

Yes, Will was right, of course, but that was neither here nor there. Too much had gone down and Merlin was too hurt to go back now.

"Maybe one day we can talk and I'll tell him, but what's done is done. I can't continue like this. It is slowly killing me, Will. I can't tell you the last time I slept more than two hours at a time."

Will stood up, walked to the bed, sat down beside Merlin, and put his arm around him. "You've always got me, Merlin. I know I'm not Arthur, but I'll always be here for you."

Merlin rested his head on Will's shoulder and closed his eyes. How had he been so lucky to have Will as his best friend?

"Thanks, Will." Merlin's stomach chose that moment to rumble, and he yawned. "I should probably go home and eat so I can get to bed. As comfortable as your bed and shoulder are, I doubt Gilli would appreciate me staying overnight."

"Yeah, probably not. So, you want to go shopping tomorrow? I need to get a few things for my mam, and if I know you, and I do, you have not done any of your Christmas shopping yet. Am I right?" Will removed his shirt and grabbed a pair of pants from his top drawer, no doubt about to go get in the shower.

"Yeah, we can do that, but I need to run some other errands as well, so let's meet at the City Centre at 9?"

If it weren't for Morgana's unexpected arrival, Arthur would have suffered through this painful evening alone, but as was usually the case when the Pendragon patriarch's first prodigy was around, she was a whirlwind of energy, and that is exactly what Arthur needed at the moment. He had forgotten how much fun she could be—once upon a time the two had been close (she had moved in with her father and Arthur when she was ten, and from that first day she had taken it upon herself to be her brother's keeper, which had been exasperating, but Arthur had known even then that he wouldn't have it any other way), and talked every day, but as all things usually did, that had changed and they had drifted apart.

"Father does so like to parade his children around. Sometimes I wonder if he realises we are adults," Morgana said, interrupting Arthur's wistful thoughts as she glanced at herself in the large mirror in the foyer and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, I think he knows that, Morgs. He just wants to make sure we know who is in charge," he retorted, bitterness slipping through as he looked down at himself and then at Morgana. He wondered how many other soon-to-be graduates wore tuxedos or gowns that cost more than most people spend on their clothing in a year to their parties.

Morgana let out a demure laugh and shook her head as she took two flutes of Champagne from a server and handed one to her brother. "You should do what I did and move out. That is the only way to ensure that you will be in charge of your life."

"I know," Arthur said, the familiar feeling of defeat closing in on him. If only he could be more like his sister. Morgana had never cared much what their father thought of what she did. Unfortunately, Arthur cared too much what his father thought. Yes, he did know that it was time to cut those strings and get out on his own, but he hadn't quite reached the point where he was ready to leave.

"You'll know when it's time, Arthur dear," his sister said softly as she smiled at him fondly and kissed him on the cheek.

Arthur nodded and attempted a smile.

After the mingling and schmoozing, which was bad enough to get through, there was the formal dinner to deal with, which Arthur dreaded like the plague. Before they sat down, he was approached by no less than fifty people, all of them dressed to the nines, shaking his hand and telling him how proud they were of him. It was all rather embarrassing, but he smiled and thanked them. Every few minutes he would see his father staring at him, a guarded smile on his face, and in those moments Arthur did realise how fortunate he was; he complained endlessly about his lot in life and how he wanted to be a regular, normal person, but he did understand that his family had been given much, therefore much was expected of him. It wasn't always a fair tradeoff, but what in life was completely fair?

When it was time for dinner, Arthur sat in between some stuffy old suit who looked like he was one breath away from breathing his last, and Morgana. Praise be that his father had at least been somewhat forgiving in that respect. So, rather than spending an hour talking to strangers about business and stocks and other boring things that a freshly minted near-graduate would rather not discuss, he was only subjected to half an hour of such, and spent the other half hour reminiscing with Morgana.

Morgana told him about the flat she'd bought in Milan and mentioned that she was busy starting some business, but just what that was he had no idea because for most of the dinner all she talked about was Morgause, her long-lost half-sister whom apparently could do no wrong. Arthur had heard his father briefly mentioning her, and he hadn't sounded too complimentary, but Arthur decided to reserve judgement until he met the woman. According to Morgana she would be visiting within the next few months.

At least his sister hadn't yet decided to grill him about Merlin, but he knew that was coming. It was inevitable. Morgana had once adored Gwen, and she had looked forward to having her as a sister-in-law, but things had changed. Not that Morgana didn't like Gwen—she did, and the two had always got on well—but his sister no longer thought Gwen was right for her brother. The genesis of this thought had no doubt been planted four years earlier, when Morgana lived nearby during Arthur's early days at uni. He had possibly talked about Merlin every time he talked to his sister. She'd left soon after, but she had known enough then to realise that if Merlin wasn't in the picture now, something big must have happened.

"Arthur, dear, you obviously are not going to finish your dinner, so let us move this to the garden? You are much more likely to tell me what I want to hear outside."

And there it was. The time for frivolity was over.

There was no doubt as to who Morgana's father was.

After they were excused, and as they passed their father, Arthur didn't miss the shared look between him and Morgana. Had they planned this? Arthur wouldn't put it past the two of them.

Once outside, Morgana steered Arthur down towards the gazebo. As they neared it, Arthur tried to figure out what he was going to say. He had already decided that the truth was best; Gwen was his future and he looked forward to that, but if he wanted to truly move forward, perhaps he just needed to get it all out in the open to Morgana. But how much of the truth to tell was now the decision he had to make. His sister would most likely berate him for being a horrible boyfriend. Although Arthur had never shared any of his and Merlin's life together with her, he knew she was not dumb. She had, after all, been the one to suggest to Arthur that if he didn't want to lose Merlin to someone else, he might want to take a chance and tell him how he felt.

That seemed a lifetime ago.

Arthur had told her she was barking, but she'd ignored him and again told her brother that Merlin was meant for him.

That memory was weighty and the thought of those words nearly overwhelmed Arthur.

How was it that everyone around him seemed to know what he needed more than he did? Although, to be sure, Arthur had never been in doubt for one second about what he wanted in his life.

He'd just been really stupid and made a horrible decision.

But that was in the past and now he was with Gwen. She made him happy. All he had ever wanted was to be happy. So he would tell Morgana what she wanted and then move on, because that is what one did.

"Before you begin," Morgana's familiar stern-yet-gentle-sisterly-no-nonsense voice said as she and Arthur stepped under the gazebo and took seats across from one another, "let me remind you that you are a grown adult, Arthur Pendragon, and you have a right to live the life _you_ want to live. Do not allow anyone to tell you what to do or who to see. Not even me. So, if I have overstepped in the past, I apologise. I am well aware that sometimes I can be a bit on the overbearing side. That being said, what happened with Merlin? You talk about you and Gwen, you smile, and I can tell you do love her, but it isn't at all the same as when you talked of Merlin in the months after you started uni."

Arthur nearly laughed, but he was afraid it would turn into a cry, so he schooled his expression and stood as he looked out over the water. He didn't want to see how disappointed in him she would be.

"You were right about him, Morgana." Arthur smiled, thinking about happier times. "Merlin and I began dating Christmas Day 2015. We were happy and I thought nothing would ever change that. I was wrong. Do you remember last year when Father came up to see me at the Christmas banquet?" he asked as he turned to her. He knew she would remember because it had been her who had been meant to go when she had come home to visit for the holidays, but she had come down with a bad case of the flu and their father had gone in her stead.

"Yes, I was in hospital that week," was her somewhat terse reply. "What does Father have to do with this?" she asked, now looking upset.

Arthur understood, and suddenly he wasn't afraid to admit the truth to her. She would still be upset with him, but now he would have an ally in her, and that was never a bad thing. She would be every bit as indignant as he was when she heard what he had to say.

"Father had no idea that Merlin and I were together, Morgana—he thought we were merely friends, so I asked Merlin to attend with me as my friend because I was worried father would be disappointed in me."

"You did what?" Morgana asked, and that eyebrow of hers shot up, similar to how Merlin's Uncle Gaius's did when he wasn't particularly happy. "No, don't repeat it, but seriously, Arthur? You asked your boyfriend to go to the Winter Banquet as your friend to appease our father? How old are you? Two?"

"I was going to tell him about me and Merlin, just not then. Merlin was fine with it." But when Morgana gave him that look, Arthur sighed. "Okay, so maybe he wasn't okay with it, but he went along with it because he wanted things to go smoothly with my father. He said as long as I didn't intend to keep him a secret for much longer he would go along with my plan."

Morgana rolled her eyes and let out a mirthless laugh. "You, brother dear, are hopeless. Well, the two of you are no longer together, so somehow your ingenious plan must have blown up in your face. I know I will regret asking, but what, pray tell, did you do?"

"Father made a comment about Merlin and I and asked if we were together. I said no."

"You did what?" Morgana nearly shouted. "You sodding fool! Bloody hell, Arthur. Are you touched in the head? As bad of an idea as it was to ask Merlin to attend as merely your friend, I can maybe understand, but once Father asked about your relationship, you had an obligation to yourself and Merlin to tell him the truth. I don't understand you. How could you have done that to Merlin? How could you have done that to _you_?"

Arthur sat back down, drained. How had he got this so wrong? He thought Morgana would have cottoned on by now. Hadn't it been she who had railed against their father from an early age when he had forbidden her to wear trousers rather than a dress? They had always stuck together when it came to their father's stubbornness.

Nothing else for it—Arthur wanted this to be over with—he cut to the chase. "It's all down to Father. Morgana, you know he has expectations for me. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't. I was afraid he would make a scene and get angry. I knew immediately I'd made a huge mistake, yet rather than telling father the truth, I went after Merlin and tried making excuses. He wasn't having it and let me have it before leaving. I tried for weeks to get him to listen to me, but at some point I gave up and decided it would all be so much easier with Gwen. And it is. Father couldn't be happier about us getting back together—he can't wait for our wedding and to be a grandfather." Arthur smiled, but he knew it didn't reach his eyes.

"You stupid, foolish man. Do you even hear yourself?" There was no doubt about it. Morgana was livid.

Arthur didn't know what he was meant to say, so he remained silent.

"This has got to stop now, Arthur. I was almost certain I knew what was going on, but I was hopeful that I was wrong. I wasn't, so now there is only one thing to do. Follow me."

This was not a request.

She began walking towards the house, and as Arthur was in no position to do anything other than follow her, he did, his head spinning, wondering what was about to happen.

She entered the house. He followed. She stormed into the ballroom, found her father, whispered in his ear, and the two of them walked towards the grand staircase. Arthur followed.

They walked down the hallway towards his father's study, and went inside. Arthur followed.

Morgana shut the door and turned to glare at Arthur. "Father, I need to ask you a question." She never took her eyes off of Arthur.

"You never have shied away from asking me questions in the past, Morgana. Please ask whatever you need to know."

"Are you homophobic?"

Arthur briefly closed his eyes. This was not happening.

"Of course not. I know I have many views that are possibly antiquated, but never have I been homophobic." And at this he turned his gaze and looked at Arthur, stricken. "I could never be that. Never. And if I had ever been, I would have long ago changed my views. You must know this," and he was now talking to Arthur, looking as distraught as Arthur felt. "Arthur, do you think me homophobic?"

Arthur felt the tears as they burned at the edges of his eyes, needing an escape. He had never envisioned having this conversation ever, because he had known how it would go.

Only, his thoughts had been wrong. So very wrong.

He nodded as he turned towards Morgana. "Thank you," he tried to say, but nothing came out as the tears were now falling and he was beyond words. How had he got it so wrong?

His father cleared his throat and seemed to wipe at a tear. "Is this why you have been so unhappy since you arrived home?"

Arthur nodded, feeling both lighter than he'd felt in a long while, yet sadder than he'd ever felt. He had more or less found his father in all of this, but he had lost Merlin.

And all of it because of something that was never even an issue.

Hadn't Lancelot said something to him about this? Arthur had ignored it as soon as he'd heard it, but now he knew that he shouldn't have.

Arthur wanted to scream. He had been so worried about how he thought his father would react that he had completely missed what was in front of him.

"Morgana, I need to speak to Arthur," his father said, clearing his throat. "Thank you for bringing him to me. I have long feared that I was being too lenient on the two of you, but now I fear that my closed-off nature has led my children to believe things that I do not wish them to. That is on me and I apologise."

Once the two were alone, Arthur's father took a seat and motioned for his son to do the same. "This is about Merlin, is it not?"

Arthur, who had been holding his head in his hands, looked up at his father and wondered how devastated he appeared. He nodded.

"I am guessing he never shared with you the chat the two of us had that day you brought him with you when we were having the garden party to celebrate Morgana's birthday."

Still unable to speak, Arthur shook his head.

"Arthur, I knew the moment you introduced him to me that the two of you would be together forever. I can't begin to tell you how I knew, but I did. It was soon after the two of you met, so I doubt you and he were together at that time, but it was obvious to me that there was something there. The way you looked at him, Arthur… I don't have the words to describe it, but I know what it is because it is the way I looked at your mother. And you must know that Merlin looked at you the same."

And it just kept getting worse and worse. What had Arthur done?

"I do not know what happened between the two of you, but what I do know is that you and Gwen need to have a serious talk, and then you need to go talk to Merlin, Arthur. You have messed up, and I don't know if you can ever do enough to get him back, but you need to try. I do not like that Gwen will be hurt; she is a lovely young lady who long ago proved to me how wonderful she would be as your wife, but you cannot continue to hurt her and yourself by living this lie."

"But I thought you wanted grandchildren with your last name," Arthur finally managed to get out, unsure why of all the things he could have said, he chose this.

His father let out a small laugh. "I'm not going to lie, Arthur. I very much want grandchildren with the Pendragon name, and I have no doubt that you will provide them with whomever you decide to spend your life with. If you thought I was going to say blood was important, you would be wrong. Blood does not make a family, and sometimes it does not make a child. There are other things that matter more." At this, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before reopening them and clearing his throat. He began to say something, but for whatever reason he closed his mouth.

Arthur wiped his eyes, completely floored. How had he got this all so very wrong? "What did you and Merlin talk about the day you met?" Arthur was unsure he wanted to know, but he knew it was important. When he went to get Merlin and beg forgiveness he needed to know what Merlin knew.

"I told him that if he ever hurt you he would have to answer to me, and when he told me he was getting his degree in marketing, I told him that if he was interested, there would be a job waiting for him when he graduated."

So… Merlin had known from the beginning that Uther Pendragon approved of him, but what he had also known was that Uther Pendragon's son had been so worried about what he thought his father thought that he allowed his own wants to be pushed to the backburner. And it had finally been too much.

Part of Arthur was angry with Merlin because had he cleared this up, then none of this now would be happening, but when Arthur thought more about it, was any of this Merlin's problem to clear up? No, none of it was. He had been right to leave. Arthur had been unwilling to go against his father's perceived thoughts, and that right there was where the problem was.

Arthur wanted to cry. He was such a fool.

He could only hope it wasn't too late.

Long ago, not long after Merlin and he had become a couple, a friend of Merlin's Uncle Gaius had said something about Merlin and him being destined to be together. It had been a throwaway comment by an old, strange man, and Arthur hadn't given it any thought, but now, with the passage of time and the loss of Merlin, Arthur wanted to know what destiny meant.

Did it mean that Merlin would maybe give him another chance? Probably not, but Arthur had to think that sometimes things worked out.

Chapter Three

Shopping wasn't usually Merlin's least favourite thing to do—in fact he rather enjoyed it when doing so from the comfort of his bed, on his laptop, or with his mother—but when it was snowing so hard that the roads were nearly impassable, and when it was the heart of the holiday season and there were throngs of others out doing the very thing he was, well then, yes, it was his least favourite thing to do.

At least he had Will with him, and when Will was in tow, there was never a dull moment. Already they had photobombed three Father Christmas pictures with screaming babies and mothers who looked as if they needed rescuing, helped a little old lady who looked as if she could fall over at any moment, and had a rather odd conversation about the merits of eating turkey on Christmas Day with a couple from the States (it seemed that in the USA people ate turkey to celebrate Thanksgiving, therefore, on Christmas they tended to eat other things).

There were so many people in the mall that it was nigh impossible to carry on a conversation, and if you were lucky enough to have one, it was sure to be interrupted when some small child bumped into you or stepped on your shoes.

Needing a break from the chaos, Merlin motioned over towards one of the sitting areas that was, blissfully, child-free at the moment. Of course, that wouldn't last, but for the moment it seemed a lovely place to have a break.

"Tell me about what you and Gilli are doing for Christmas. I heard you telling him you'd see him Christmas Eve night," Merlin said as he sat down and placed his bags in his lap, giving his arms a much needed rest. It was a good thing he didn't have much left to get.

"Erm, well, we…" Will looked somewhat uncomfortable. It was clear he didn't want to answer.

Normally, this would alarm Merlin that something wasn't right, but in this situation, he was more miffed than concerned. It seemed obvious to him that Will was trying to be careful because of Arthur. "Spill it, Will. I'm not a snowflake who's going to crumble under the weight of your good news. Just because I don't have a boyfriend and am sad doesn't mean you can't tell me about the happy plans you have with _your_ boyfriend."

"Sorry," was Will's careful reply, but he wasn't at all sorry, and they both knew it. "I think I'm going to ask Gilli to move in with me. You don't think it's too soon, do you?" Will asked, looking genuinely perplexed. "It's only been six months that we've been together, but I really like him, Merlin."

"I can't answer that, Will. Only you know the answer." Merlin wasn't so sure it was a good idea for them to move in together, but who was he to rain on Will's parade? Yes, Will had asked for his opinion, but that didn't mean he actually wanted it. "Do you think he'll say yes?"

Will shrugged. "I hope so. But I'm not even sure I'll ask. I might wait. I just don't want to go too fast and scare him off."

"He seems really into you, Will. And if he doesn't want to move in, he'll tell you."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm just afraid of losing him."

Merlin could understand that. He hadn't once entertained the idea of losing Arthur, yet he had. Arthur was still very much alive, but to Merlin it was akin to a death.

"So, what do you have left to get, Merls?" Will asked as he went down his list and marked off items.

"I need to find something for Mum." Merlin had found some rare herbs for his Uncle Gaius, and a few goodies for the next door neighbors, but he still needed something for his mother. She was always difficult to buy for because she never asked for anything.

Many of his mother's friends ogled over the latest perfume or newest fashions, but Merlin's mother had no time for such frivolities. Or, more to the point, she'd never had the luxury of doing so. Growing up with little, and to this day having very little, her wants and needs were solely focused on her son. It upset Merlin, but he had long ago ceased asking his mother to name one thing she wished for… other than for her son to be happy.

"What did you get her last year?" Will asked, familiar with how difficult this task would be. This obviously wasn't his first rodeo.

"Tickets to the Symphony." Merlin grinned, but it disappeared when he remembered that Arthur had helped him decide what to get her.

Why did everything these days seem to come back to Arthur?

Alas, it did, but Merlin couldn't dwell on it at the moment. He had a gift to get, and there was no way he was going to top last year's.

Merlin's mother listened to classical music as she cleaned and cooked—had done for as long as Merlin could remember—and she had often talked of going to see a live orchestra but had never seriously given any thought to it.

The look on her face when she opened the card last Christmas… Merlin would never forget it. By that time, he and Arthur were no longer together, and the hurt had been fresh and raw, but to see the happiness in his mother's eyes, well, it had made everything better, if only for a few minutes.

"Hm, it's going to be hard to beat that one, but we'll find something, mate."

Two hours later, after procuring his mother the perfect gift, and after eating the most unhealthy and delicious food known to man—greasy pizza with copious amounts of cheese on top—Will and Merlin parted ways after making plans for the following day.

Merlin was tired and wished he could go home and kip before supper, but he had one more stop to make. It could wait, but Merlin didn't want to put it off. He had someone he needed to go see.

Someone whom he needed to thank for helping him make it through uni without losing his mind.

And that wasn't at all an exaggeration.

Freshers week for Merlin had been stressful and disheartening. He had been lost in a sea of students and didn't have the first clue as to how to make friends. Yes, he had had Lancelot and Gwaine, and they had been wonderful, but they had made their own friends and had often been out that week doing other things.

One morning, disenchanted with the entire uni thing and ready to give it up, he had called his Uncle Gaius, and they had talked about everything from the time Merlin had scraped his knee at the age of two to the day before when Merlin's mother had asked Gaius to please call her son and make sure he was making friends.

That had been the first of many _man-to-man_ talks they had, and Merlin knew without a doubt that it was down to his uncle that he had made it through uni without going crazy.

Merlin pulled up into the drive and immediately wished he hadn't come.

Kilgharrah was there.

Gaius's odd professor friend (Merlin was eternally thankful that wherever he professed, it wasn't at Camelot) who looked like he was a thousand years old.

And who seemed fixated on the idea of Merlin and Arthur being together.

It was _destiny_. They were to bring about a _Golden Age of Albion_.

Whatever the hell that meant.

Had Kilgharrah not been sitting in his car, looking directly at Merlin, Merlin would have turned around and left. As it was, he had no choice but to pull in beside Kilgharrah's beat-up, dilapidated car, and kill the motor. He slowly undid his lap-belt and was already calculating how he could politely extricate himself from this situation sooner rather than later as he opened the door.

"Hello, Young Warlock," said the crazy coot.

Merlin had to work hard not to roll his eyes. He had no clue why this man insisted on calling him such. Yes, he had often imagined himself using magic to make the world a better place, but that had been when he was a small boy. Small boys were meant to imagine themselves as superheroes. But Merlin was now twenty-two, thank you very much, and he had a name. Why in the bloody hell couldn't this man use it?

"Hello, Mr. Kilgharrah," Merlin responded with a fake smile. "What brings you to my uncle's house today?"

"Funny you should ask, Merlin. I was prepared to travel to Birmingham this morning—my sister's granddaughter graduates tomorrow, but I had a strong vision of someone telling me I needed to come here first and find you."

This time Merlin couldn't withhold the laugh.

"You laugh, young Warlock, but after you finish there is a task for you. You must go find your other half and inform him of what he needs to know. He cannot perform his future duties without you, nor can you perform your future duties without him. It is time to let go of your pride just this once. Sometimes, those of import can be stubborn—it is the way of them, and we must allow for that. But what good is knowledge if you keep it to yourself?"

The only thing Merlin could do was nod. Because, as evasive and prone to riddles as the man was, Merlin knew what, or whom, this was about.

Somehow Kilgharrah had known about Arthur long before Merlin had met him, and through the years, he had continued to comment about him to Merlin. Not once had Kilgharrah ever mentioned the name Arthur (he had referred to him a few times as the once and future king, but it was as clear as the day was blue that Arthur was the one the old man referred to).

The image of Arthur as a king took Merlin back to when he and Arthur had first gone to the castle that had at one time been Arthur's family's home. Everything about that day had been magical. Not only had it been very early in Merlin and Arthur's relationship, but when they stood on the roof, Merlin had felt more alive than he'd felt in years. It was as if he had come home. Of course he had figured it was because of Arthur, but now, hearing Kilgharrah and thinking back on all of his previous statements, most of them hidden within riddles, Merlin allowed himself to wonder if there maybe wasn't something more.

It was ludicrous, of course—there could be nothing more—but the part of Merlin that had always been more comfortable making up fantastical stories in his mind rather than facing reality liked the idea of there being something more.

But that was a thought and daydream for another day.

"If you are here to see Gaius, I am afraid he is at Alice's for the day. I came by to drop off some herbs he ordered," Kilgharrah said, popping the bubble that had taken Merlin away briefly.

Merlin nodded, said his goodbyes, then left, getting out of there as quickly as he could; he wanted to put as much distance between him and the crazy old man as he could.

"You didn't sound so good on the phone. What's wrong, Arthur?" Gwen asked as she handed him a cup of tea and sat down across from him.

Arthur took a sip of tea to stall. He had no idea what to say. He felt awful. He and Gwen went back years—they'd met when they were four or five and had been pretty much inseparable since that first day. They'd begun dating when they were fourteen and Arthur had imagined that he'd spend the rest of his life with her.

But things changed.

They'd broken up a few months after entering uni because a bloke called Merlin Emrys had captured Arthur's heart, and Gwen had begun dating Lancelot.

Arthur had found his forever.

But that had ended.

And Gwen and Lancelot had ended when he'd moved to the States.

So, it was just the normal thing that Arthur and Gwen had ended up together again. It had been easy—they fit together perfectly and there was nothing to get to know about each other.

Things had never been as wonderful as it had been before Merlin, but it had been okay, and Gwen seemed happy.

"Arthur, don't forget that I know you better than just about anyone else," she said, setting down her cup and motioning for Arthur to do the same. She took his hands in hers and looked into his eyes. "I thought I could do this. I thought I could make you happy and help you forget Merlin, but that isn't possible. He is a part of you, and I think you know that. Perhaps you have finally decided to go after him?" she asked, a small sort of smile on her face.

Arthur swallowed and nodded. "I have been such a complete fool, Guinevere. I can't even begin to tell you how much of one."

"Then I suggest you do something about it. You don't find love like what you and Merlin shared every day."

Arthur took a deep breath and nodded. He had planned this long speech about how sorry he was for everything, but, really, what was the point of it all? Gwen knew what this was about, and she knew he was sorry for hurting her. Neither of them were stupid. "And maybe you need to talk to Lancelot. Merlin and I aren't the only ones who belong together."

She let out a nervous laugh, probably taken aback at Arthur's direct response, and nodded. "Yes, well, that is on my list of things to do, Arthur. Lancelot has been wonderful through all of this—he has been a good friend to Merlin throughout."

Arthur nodded, unsure what to say. That she was thinking about Merlin at a time like this made him realise how wonderful she was. "Unlike me," he said beneath his breath. "I can't believe that he would ever take me back after what I did. I denied what we were to each other in front of my father. I knew as I did it that it would cost me, but I never knew just how high the price would be."

Gwen squeezed his hands. "Well, now you do and now you can do something about it."

"I do not deserve you, Guinevere," Arthur said, truly amazed that she hadn't slapped him across the face long ago and left his sorry arse.

"Quite right, love. You deserve Merlin, and I think you should go get him, yeah?"

Arthur let go of Gwen's hands and stood. "I hope Lancelot realises what a gem he has in you. If he ever hurts you…" Arthur grinned as he walked around to where Gwen was now standing and pulled her into a hug. "I do love you, you know. I always will."

"And I, you, Arthur. Now go and get that young man who stole your heart four years ago."

"Yes, m' lady," Arthur responded cheekily as he bowed deeply.

"You're such a dork, Arthur."

Arthur opened the door to leave, feeling lighter than he had in a very long while.

"Be careful," Gwen called out. "I just got an alert that said the roads between here and Ealdor are really bad. I would tell you to wait and go later, but I know you'll not listen."

Arthur took out his mobile and clicked on the weather app. He really should wait for the weather to get better, but he had travelled in bad snow before. He would just have to pay extra attention. He smiled at Gwen. "Get home and get warm, and tell Lancelot I said hello." Then he was gone.

With any luck, when he came back home, he and Merlin would be together.

As Arthur made the familiar drive to Ealdor, he valiantly tried to think of better times, and the one that came to mind first was the day Arthur had taken Merlin to his ancestral home—an old castle on the outskirts of Camelot.

It was now abandoned—the upkeep had stopped a year earlier, and demolition was scheduled for the new-year, but that frigid November day in 2015, the castle had gleamed in the bright sunlight, her turrets and towers hiding a million stories of war, love, peace, and prosperity.

Those had been early days in their budding relationship; Merlin had been on the cusp of taking that giant leap, and Arthur had been almost giddy with the thought that maybe Merlin could one day love him.

If Merlin decided to give Arthur another chance, Arthur thought he'd like to take him back to the castle one last time before it was no more.

The roads weren't as treacherous as Arthur expected, but once he entered Ealdor, things got progressively worse. The snow was blowing sideways, and you could barely see in front of you. If not for the lights of the cars in front of him, he'd be unable to move.

And the radar didn't look at all promising—there was more of this on the way. It looked as if he might be staying the night in Ealdor. He hoped he could at least make it to Merlin's.

There was no way Hunith would allow him to return to his home in this weather.

Traffic was not heavy, but it took him forever to get from the motorway to the exit that would take him to Merlin's house.

He looked to his left and saw the little house where Merlin's uncle lived. Arthur thought briefly that maybe he should go there first, but he decided to go ahead and try for Merlin's. He'd come back if he needed to.

He made his way down the street, but soon found himself stopped. And it looked like the street in front of him was filled with cars. Damned snow.

But then an ambulance sped by, its siren blaring, its lights bright against the darkening sky. And Arthur had the worst feeling crash over him.

Merlin.

Certainly this was nothing to do with him because he was sensible and wouldn't have been out in this weather.

But still.

He had no idea what made him do it, but Arthur got out of his car and began running towards the front, having no idea how long that would take him. His car would probably be towed away when he wasn't there to move it forwards, but he didn't care. All he cared about at the moment was making sure Merlin wasn't the one the ambulance had come for.

He continued to run, wrapping his coat and scarf tighter around him. Finally he could see the ambulance. He turned his head to the left and his heart plummeted.

Merlin's pride and joy, the red Audi his mother and uncle had given him when he started uni, was mangled in front rather badly. The driver-side door was open, and the deployed airbag visible.

"Merlin!" he called out as he ran towards the car and saw two men tending him beside the ambulance. "Is he okay?" Arthur asked, kneeling beside Merlin and reaching out to touch his face. Merlin opened his eyes and moaned before closing them again.

"Sir, we need to get him to hospital," one of the men said urgently, his voice firm.

Arthur nodded and backed up, realising he was probably in the way. "I know him; his name is Merlin Emrys. I will go get his mother and we will meet you at hospital. Is he going to be okay?" Arthur felt sick to his stomach as he watched the men lift Merlin and place him on a gurney.

"He is conscious, but he seemed shaken up when we got him out of his car. His leg is most likely broken, and he has other injuries. Nothing that seems life threatening, but you must understand that there is no way to know until they do a thorough examination." The men lifted the gurney and began putting it into the ambulance.

Arthur stood and nodded as he said a silent prayer. He didn't know if there was anyone to listen, but he hoped so. He couldn't lose Merlin.

When Merlin was loaded into the ambulance, Arthur gave them his and Merlin's contact information and got information from them about where they were taking him, then he left, shaken beyond belief.

He wasn't sure how he made it to Hunith's, but he did, and fortunately, she was home. He'd remembered Merlin telling him that she often worked late during the holidays because of the extra money.

He tried to compose himself as much as he could, but, really, how was one to do that? He did try, but when he knocked on the door until Hunith answered, he guessed he hadn't exactly been calm, and already she looked frightened. Arthur wanted to slap himself. Seeing her son's former boyfriend must have been shocking enough.

Usually, he was all too adept at reining in his emotions. Of course, this situation was not at all usual, but, still, he could have tried harder to not scare Merlin's mother.

"Arthur, what are you doing here? Merlin is out; he—" but then the colour left her face and she must have realised something was wrong. She brought her hands to her mouth.

"He's been in an accident, Hunith. Grab your keys, purse, and coat, and come with me," Arthur said as calmly as he could, knowing Merlin's mother was about to be anything but calm. But she did as Arthur said and was soon walking with him to his car. Arthur unlocked the passenger-side door and watched as she got in and did her lap belt before he got in himself.

"What happened? And how do you know? What is going on?" she asked, her face reflecting Arthur's emotions.

Arthur summarized the events of the past hour in a few seconds.

"Is he hurt badly?"

Arthur wanted to say no, because when they'd seen each other, Merlin hadn't looked too bad off, and the man tending Merlin said he seemed not too severely hurt, but Arthur knew from experience that sometimes things were much worse than they appeared, and he didn't want to get Hunith's hopes up. "I don't know. He did open his eyes briefly and tried to smile at me, but then he fell back asleep."

"He'll be fine, Arthur," Hunith said matter-of-factly. "Don't allow yourself to think otherwise." She reached her hand over and patted his arm. "I know it."

Arthur nodded. He hoped so. If anything happened to Merlin… he would never forgive himself. He had to be able to tell him how sorry he was. The fates surely wouldn't be so cruel as to take him now.

But Arthur knew first-hand how fate worked and how it cared little about who it hurt. A husband and newborn child had found that out twenty-two years ago and were still suffering from the effects to this very day.

That hurt was quite enough. If he had to face losing Merlin...

"Arthur, you need to breathe, love. In and out. In and out. With me," she said, calmly, her hand never leaving his arm. "In and out."

Arthur did as Merlin's mother asked him to do and soon all he could hear was his and her breaths. It helped. He was scared beyond belief, but he had to keep it together.

It seemed like it took them forever, and he had no idea how he was able to get them to the hospital safely, but finally they parked and ran to the entrance of A&E. Arthur's inclination was to take charge, but Merlin was Hunith's son. He needed to let her take the lead. Which was probably a good thing as he felt himself beginning to panic again.

He felt Hunith taking his arm, and he allowed her to lead him to a chair. Then someone put a cup of water in his hands. It wasn't Hunith as she had gone to the front desk. He lifted the cup to his mouth and took a sip. Then he closed his eyes.

He should call his father and let him know where he was and what had happened. Arthur took out his mobile and rang Morgana—he wasn't sure he could make it through a conversation with his father without breaking down, and he needed to remain strong for Hunith.

"Gwen called and told me where you'd gone, Arthur; she was worried because the weather is so bad," she said as soon as she answered, not giving Arthur a chance to speak. Typical Morgana.

"Merlin's been in an accident. Hunith and I are at hospital. Please let father know I'll probably not be home tonight," Arthur said in one go before he had to take a deep breath. He wanted to hang up, but Morgana would no doubt ask him when, where, and all those other questions.

Lucky for him, at that moment Hunith took Arthur's mobile and did the talking for him. Arthur stared at her in awe. Her son had just been in an accident, yet here she was, talking to Morgana so he wouldn't have to. It was this that finally broke him, and he put his face in his hands and allowed the tears to flow.

He felt Hunith rubbing his back, and he wished he could stop crying and be strong for her, but he couldn't. He had tried, but he couldn't.

"He is going to be fine, Arthur. He broke his leg and has a concussion, but he will recover."

Arthur cleared his throat and looked up at Merlin's mother. "Really?" he asked weakly, wanting to believe her, but he needed to be sure.

"Really, Arthur. My son will be just fine."

And that brought on another onslaught of tears. Normally, Arthur hated to cry in public; it made him feel weak. But at this moment he didn't care what it made him look like.

Hunith handed him a handkerchief. He gratefully took it and blew his nose and tried to clean his face, but he really didn't care what he looked like. All he wanted was to see Merlin. He wanted to sit by his bed and hold his hand and tell him he was going to be okay.

That was all he wanted to do.

"Arthur, the doctor said we can go in and see Merlin, but I want to talk to you first, okay?" she said as she rubbed his back and wiped a tear that was rolling down his cheek. "Can you look at me?" she asked softly.

He did as she asked and wiped away more errant tears. He tried to speak, but couldn't.

"Your father called. After Morgana told him what happened to Merlin and that you had come to Ealdor, he thought I needed to know why you came. He didn't want to betray any confidences, but under the circumstances, I think you'll agree that he probably did the right thing."

"Yes, of course," Arthur said, not caring in the least that his father had told Hunith. All he wanted was to see Merlin. And, at the moment, he also wanted to see his father and Morgana. He had never felt this alone in his life. "Thank you. You would have every right to send me on my way and to tell me to leave your son alone after the way I hurt him, Hunith."

"Yes, that I would, Arthur, and I did think that when I first saw you at my door. But once I realised something was wrong, all thought of that disappeared. Merlin never shared with me the particulars of what you did, although he did assure me that you never hit him or abused him emotionally. I was angry at you for hurting Merlin, but sitting here now, I see how much you love him. Now it is up to you to make things right … if he will allow you to do such. However, if he asks you to leave, Arthur, I must ask that you do so without question. I will not have him upset whilst in hospital."

Arthur nodded. "I'll do whatever he asks, Hunith. I just want him to get better. He has to get better."

"Merlin is going to be fine," Hunith repeated as she looked up into Arthur's eyes. "And you are going to be able to tell him that you love him and all that other sappy stuff that I know he will want to hear. Now, why don't we try to compose ourselves so we don't scare my son any more than he already is."

Several minutes later, Arthur stood at the door, hesitant to open it, and he didn't understand why.

Hunith had no such qualms, and she pushed open the door and immediately went into mother mode.

Arthur followed her into the small A&E room, a bit scared about what Merlin would look like.

His leg was elevated, in a cast, his eyes were swollen and closed, and there were cuts and gashes on his face and arms. Several other bandages were proof that Merlin had been through quite the ordeal.

But he was alive.

"You can come stand on the other side of the bed, Arthur," Hunith said softly. "He's okay, love."

Arthur walked up to him and gently reached out and touched his hand. He hadn't meant to, but he couldn't help it. He looked up at Hunith, who was smiling at him. He wanted to say something, but couldn't.

"Merlin, love, you were in an accident, but you're going to be okay. Someone's here to see you, and I think you will want to see him. Can you open your eyes for me?" asked his mother, her voice tender as she caressed his cheek and tucked some of his hair behind his ear.

Merlin tried—it was easy to see the effort—but he couldn't get his eyes open. He frowned and seemed agitated.

"It's okay, love. Relax. You should rest. We aren't going anywhere."

"Arth. Ar," Merlin said, turning his head in the direction of Arthur.

Arthur looked at Hunith, who nodded.

"Yes, Merlin, it's me. I'm here." Arthur took Merlin's hand in his, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. "When you get stronger I am sure you will have loads to say to me, and I'll let you. But for now just rest, okay?"

Merlin nodded and seemed to relax.

So, of course, that was when a nurse entered the room and wanted to prod Merlin and check his vitals.

Will came up to the hospital soon after and took Hunith home so she could get some clothes, but Arthur refused to leave Merlin's side as they prepared to move him to a room.

Merlin would have normally gone to a ward with several other patients, but Arthur wasn't having any of that. He called his father, who arranged for Merlin to have a private room.

It took far longer than Arthur thought it should have, but eventually they were in the room and Merlin was allowed to rest without anyone checking his temperature or pupils every ten seconds. Yes, these things had to be done, but Merlin needed his rest.

There was a couch that turned into a bed, which Hunith would sleep on. It didn't look at all comfortable, but Arthur knew it wouldn't matter. Arthur would stay as late as he could, then he would go to Merlin's house and get some sleep and be back early in the morning.

"Arthur?" Merlin called out in a weak voice. It was slurred, but there was no doubt what he had said.

"I'm here, Merlin," Arthur said as he scooted the chair up to the bed. "I'm here."

"Why?" Merlin asked, barely opening his eyes for a few seconds before closing them again as he furrowed his eyebrows.

Because I love you, was what Arthur wanted to say, but did he have that right? "Because I love you, Merlin," he said, recalling that withholding his feelings and allowing what he thought others wanted from him to dictate his actions had been the worst mistake of his life. Arthur took Merlin's hand in his and caressed it.

Merlin opened his eyes and stared at Arthur before blinking several times and looking around the room as if he were confused. "Are you here because you finally talked to your father and found out that he never would have had a problem with us being together?"

"I did talk to him, yes," Arthur answered hesitantly, knowing he had some major explaining to do.

"Please leave."

Arthur hadn't heard wrong, and the dagger through his chest was a hurt he knew would live with him forever. He shook his head but knew he had no choice.

It tore out his heart, but Arthur slowly stood, leant over Merlin, and kissed his forehead, then left without another word.

Chapter Four

"We're going to be late, Merlin," his mother called out from the kitchen. "If we want to miss the morning traffic, we need to leave now."

"Be there in a second, Mum," Merlin called out tersely as he folded his graduation gown and stuffed it in his rucksack before donning it and retrieving his crutches. "Gotta go, Freya," he said sadly, wishing Freya could come see him graduate, but she had to work and her boss didn't much care that his employee's former boyfriend had been in a car wreck and that he was heartbroken.

"Love you, Merlin. Never forget that, yeah?" She sounded sad, and Merlin knew she was. And again, as he had done no less than ten times over the past hour, he wondered if it wouldn't be better for him and Freya to get back together.

That would be easy.

But Merlin had never done easy, had he?

On his way out of the room, he grabbed his coat and mortar board and took a deep breath as he contemplated the day ahead.

He _could_ do this. He _would_ do this.

Four hours later a frustrated Merlin stood amongst the throngs of soon-to-be graduates, waiting to go into the auditorium to get this bloody ceremony over with. He had been in a somewhat decent mood—how could he not be after his mother had cheered him up with talk of their plans to go Christmas shopping the next day—but that had disappeared when he had somehow managed to ram his broken leg into a chair. Pain now coursed through him, making it nigh impossible to concentrate on anything else.

He should probably text his mum and ask her to bring him something for the pain, but if he did that, she would fuss over him, and that was the last thing Merlin wanted. Surely he could deal with this pain for the next few hours.

He looked around, hoping there might be a chair near so he could sit down, but there were none and he had no strength to go looking for one.

"Merlin?" called out a familiar female voice, and Merlin wished fervently to not have this conversation. Not that he didn't want to talk to Morgana, but he knew that her father would be near, and Merlin didn't want to see him. As wrong as it was, Merlin had recently taken to blaming Uther Pendragon for all of this.

Yes, he understood perfectly well that it was all down to Arthur, but it was easier to blame a man whom Merlin had grown up thinking wasn't a nice person.

"Morgana," he said carefully, schooling his face. It wouldn't work, but he had to try. "It's good to see you."

"And you," Morgana replied, a huge smile on her face. "How are you feeling, Merlin? I wasn't sure if you would be here."

"I'm fine," he lied. "Mum told me I didn't have to come if I wasn't feeling up to it, but I couldn't miss this, no matter how much I wanted to." Morgana nodded, but she said nothing further as her father joined her. Merlin wanted to turn and run the other way.

Uther frowned at Merlin and curtly nodded. He looked as if he wanted to speak. He didn't, but he continued glaring, and it was obvious he wasn't happy. "Morgana, I'm going to find a seat." And just like that he was gone.

Merlin hadn't expected any other reaction from Arthur's father, yet the visible disappointment still stung. But he didn't have much time to dwell on it because at that very moment, Gwaine's loud voice echoed through the hall as he yelled Merlin's name.

Morgana rolled her eyes and mouthed something. That, coupled with Gwaine's smirk made Merlin laugh, which he sorely needed. He could always count on Gwaine to make things less stressful.

"Well, hello, Arthur's sister, how are you doing this fine day?" Gwaine, ever the charmer, asked as he shook Merlin's hand, winking as he turned and looked at Morgana.

Gwaine had met Morgana only once, but that had been enough to entrance him, and he had told Merlin it was his goal to get Arthur's sister to kiss him.

Merlin couldn't help the snort that he let out when Morgana winked back, and he wondered if Gwaine knew what he had got himself into.

Merlin had no plans to alert him.

Sometimes it was best to let Gwaine learn these lessons on his own.

Gwaine then turned his attention back to Merlin. "Have you seen Arthur?"

"No, and I doubt I will until the ceremony begins. He hasn't called since I told him to leave that day at hospital." Merlin glanced at Morgana, who was decidedly keeping a blank face.

"And did you think he would want to talk to you, Merlin?" Gwaine asked, a bit of ire behind his words. "You told him to leave without giving him a chance to explain anything."

Merlin felt like shouting for everyone to shut the hell up. Did they really need to remind him what he had done? "I know, Gwaine. You don't need to remind me. I just wish he hadn't been so ready to listen to what I said. No one else does, so why would he? I was on pain meds, for Christ's sake, and I had a concussion. Did he truly think I wanted him to go?"

"I know this isn't the answer you want, Merlin, but yeah, he probably did. He royally buggered things between the two of you; he knows he broke your heart. Why wouldn't he think that?"

Merlin shook his head. He wasn't going to dwell on this. Not today. What was done was done. "I talked to Freya this morning. I've been thinking of asking her out again." Merlin knew this bit of news was likely to get Gwaine all worked up, but better he be worked up about this than continue to make Merlin feel like the scum of the earth for telling Arthur to leave.

Gwaine's reaction was precisely what Merlin had expected. But it wasn't as if he had thought Gwaine would slap him on the shoulder and wish him good luck. "I'm lonely, Gwaine, and I'm tired of missing Arthur."

"Then go and get him back, Merlin. Gods, you and my brother are truly a match; neither of you have the sense God gave you," Morgana said in a huff. "It's nearly time. I'm going to find Arthur."

Merlin glared at her, but when she went in for a hug, he whispered in her ear that he would try.

And he did plan to try; he'd been psyching himself up to try for the past several hours, but that was a tall order, and when Morgana left him and Gwaine, Merlin deflated. Why did life have to be so complicated?

Not wanting to think about any of that, Merlin took out his wrinkled gown and studied it, thinking that his mother was going to have words with him about the state of it. Oh well, there was nothing for it. He then sighed, frustrated that he would need help getting into it.

"She's right," said Gwaine as he donned his own gown. "Why miss him any longer, Merlin? You're here, as is Arthur. Why not talk to him, tell him that you were out of it in hospital, and that you want him back?"

Merlin took a deep breath as Gwaine helped him into his gown and straightened his tie. Little did Gwaine know that Merlin intended to do this very thing… if he could muster the nerve, that is. He still had time to back out of this plan of his. No one else knew about it. But Merlin did know, and if he chickened out now, he would never forgive himself. He took a deep breath. "I need your help," Merlin added once Gwaine seemed satisfied that his friend was presentable. "Will you take my rucksack to my mum?" When Gwaine said of course he would, Merlin reluctantly handed it to him, but as Gwaine was leaving, Merlin nearly slapped himself as he quickly reached into his pocket and retrieved a sheet of paper. He called Gwaine back and gave it to him.

Gwaine would know what to do.

Merlin looked up at the clock and saw that they only had half an hour until the ceremony began. He was so very nervous. He hated being in public like this.

Arthur had always helped to calm him, but now there was no Arthur.

At that very moment Lancelot appeared, looking as regal as ever. Merlin could have kissed him. Lancelot was nearly as good as Arthur when it came to calming him.

"Breathe, Merlin. It'll all be over before you know it," Lancelot said, lightly touching Merlin's arm. "Are you feeling okay? You should probably sit down."

A few seconds later Lancelot dragged two chairs over, and Merlin gratefully sat in one and propped up his leg in the second. "Thank you. So, how have you been, Lancelot?" Merlin asked, wanting to deflect the situation from himself. He knew he must look a sight. To be sure, he wasn't feeling that great. "I'm sorry I haven't returned any of your calls. I've been a bit depressed since the accident. It's going to cost more than I can afford to have my car repaired, I shattered my leg, and Arthur… well, it's all just got to me."

I'm sorry about your car, your leg, and Arthur. It all sucks, Merlin," Lancelot said, frowning. "Life sure does know how to shit on your parade, doesn't it? But I do have news that might make you smile. Perhaps not, but maybe," and now Lancelot was grinning.

"You are worse than me with keeping secrets, Lancelot," Merlin said as he looked over Lancelot's shoulder and saw Gwen approaching them. He gave her a nod, let out a small laugh, and rolled his eyes before turning back to Lancelot.

"Hey, Merlin," Gwen said as she walked up to Lancelot and took his hand in hers. Lancelot was now grinning from ear to ear. "Lancelot and I have decided to try this relationship thing again."

"I see," Merlin said, smiling, a slight chuckle. He would be lying if he said it didn't hurt just a little that Gwen and Lancelot were perhaps beginning their happily-ever-after, but he was so much more pleased for them than sad for himself. He had figured that Gwen and Arthur were no longer together because of the whole _Arthur being at the hospital and telling him that he loved him_ thing, but you could never tell with Arthur what he truly wanted, so Merlin hadn't been sure. Now he was, and he was happy that Gwen and Lancelot were back together. Why shouldn't the rest of the world be happy and in love? "I see you wasted no time."

"Yeah, there was no reason to," Lancelot said as he wrapped his arms around Gwen and kissed her on the forehead. "If I have learned one thing (the _from you_ was not said but very much there) this year, it is to not take anything for granted. Life is too short."

"How right you are," Merlin agreed, smiling and meaning it, even if part of him wanted to burst into tears.

"It's almost time," Gwen said as she looked at her mobile.

Merlin looked around. He had hoped Arthur would come talk to him, but he had told him to leave that day in hospital, hadn't he?

Soon enough they were all lined up, about to walk into the large auditorium. Merlin looked around, wondering what was keeping Gwaine, but then he appeared, a huge grin on his face as he put the mortar board on Merlin's head, shushing Merlin when he said he wanted to see it first.

"Trust me," was Gwaine's only reply before he unexpectedly kissed Merlin on the lips. Merlin let out a nervous laugh and winked as his hands found his mortar board and he ran his fingers over the top, taking a deep breath.

There was no going back now. "Thank you," he said, a huge grin on his face as Gwaine nodded and left to go find his place in line.

Merlin heard someone calling his name, but he couldn't see who was calling him. He looked around the room and saw Gaius and Kilgharrah waving at him from the doorway. Merlin rolled his eyes, wondering why they couldn't have waited until after to see him. Gaius looked happy and proud, as Merlin knew he would, but Kilgharrah was looking at him oddly, as if he were trying to tell him something cryptically. It was strange and unsettled Merlin, but he hadn't the time to think about it at the moment.

He waved at Gaius and gave him a thumbs up before returning his attention to those around him, who were all chatting with each other, excited to finally be graduating. Merlin wondered what their stories were and if they had gone through life-changing events as he had. He guessed many of them had.

Everyone had a story to share.

Then they were walking. It was pretty much a blur to Merlin, whose leg was now throbbing, as he made his way to his seat. He heard a few others speak to him, and he responded, but he couldn't have said who any of these people were.

Then someone was speaking. Then someone else.

Merlin closed his eyes and blocked out the talking, sure that he would be prodded when it was time for him to stand.

All too soon, it was time, but as he made his way to the front, he watched Lancelot walking across to accept his degree. Merlin was so proud of him—he had studied abroad for almost two years, left behind his girlfriend, almost lost her, and here he was, graduating, the woman he loved back in his life.

Sometimes dreams did come true.

Merlin wouldn't be at all surprised if they eloped or had a destination wedding within the next few months.

Then they were calling his name. Merlin bit the inside of his cheek so he could concentrate on that as he made his way towards the man handing out the degrees (well, they weren't the actual degrees, merely a sheet of paper saying they would be mailed to them at a later date). By now his leg was on fire and Merlin had to bite back the moans he wanted to make.

Then Merlin was shaking the man's hand and accepting an envelope. He smiled.

"Good Luck, mate," the man said, and when Merlin gave him a questioning look, the man pointed to his mortar board.

Merlin let out a nervous laugh. He had momentarily forgotten about that.

"Thanks," he said as he made his way back to his seat. He searched for Arthur, sure that he wouldn't be able to find him, but the fates were on his side and he spotted him almost straight away, and he was smiling at Merlin, tears in his eyes as he clapped.

Merlin took a deep breath and lowered his head so Arthur could read his mortar board, and he could only hope that Gwaine had done as asked and put _Please don't ever leave, Arthur_ on the top.

When Merlin looked up to see Arthur's reaction, he was met with a message from Arthur via his own mortar board:

"_Please forgive me. I love you, Merlin._"

By this time Merlin was almost out of Arthur's line of sight, but he mouthed that he loved Arthur, too, then he was walking back to his seat, tears fighting to fall. At least he was on the end of the row, so just maybe Arthur could still see him.

Merlin sat down and did his best to pay attention to Gwaine when he walked across the stage, but all he could think about was Arthur.

When Arthur accepted his envelope, Merlin couldn't help the tears that fell. When Merlin had come to uni over four years ago, he hadn't once entertained the idea of falling in love with a male. Not in a thousand years could Merlin have ever imagined that he could ever have feelings of love for someone who shared his anatomy, but he had. He did. Arthur had slowly wended his way into Merlin's life and heart to the extent that Merlin couldn't imagine his life without him.

It had been the scariest revelation of his life to that point, but Merlin had trusted Arthur and allowed himself to enter into the unknown. And he had never looked back.

He would never regret doing such.

Even if he and Arthur never spoke again—thankfully, it didn't seem that would be the case—Merlin could never ever wish that he and Arthur hadn't happened.

Sometimes broken hearts were worth it.

By now Merlin didn't even try to stop the tears that were rolling down his face as Arthur walked towards him, and when Arthur stopped before him and pecked him on the lips before caressing his cheeks and telling him that he loved him and that he would never leave him, Merlin could hear himself crying, but he didn't care as Arthur pulled him into a hug and then moved so he could kneel beside him.

"I'm staying here. If they don't like it they can come and tell me," Arthur said matter-of-factly.

Merlin couldn't respond. He was filled with such happiness that it was about to burst. He wiped his eyes and leant his head on Arthur's shoulder. "I'm so tired." And it was the truth. He thought he could sleep for hours.

"Just a little longer, Merlin, then we'll get you home and in bed."

Merlin looked up at Arthur and squeezed his hand. Was this really happening? He nodded then looked back at the front. "Gwen's about to walk across," Merlin said, his voice somber. "Did you know that Lancelot and she are back together?"

Arthur nodded. "Lancelot called me and asked if I was okay with him asking her out. He didn't need to do that, but it means a lot that he did."

As Arthur waited to pull out of the car park, he glanced behind him into the back seat and was not at all surprised to see that Merlin had already fallen asleep. He didn't look all that comfortable—his leg was propped up on the seat and his head against a pillow that was against the car door, but at least Merlin was resting now that he had taken his pain meds.

Arthur's mobile beeped. It was Morgana.

"Hey, Morgs. Is Hunith with you and Father?"

"She is. Is Merlin asleep?"

"He is. I hate it that he'll have to wake up so soon. He needs rest."

"Yes, well, he can sleep when he gets home, wherever that will be tonight, but for now we have somewhere to be, and we are on a tight schedule."

Arthur chuckled. "Yes, Ma'am," he said overly dramatic, very nearly adding something about bossy sisters. "See you in a few." He clicked off.

He had no idea what to expect. His father had asked him and Merlin to meet him at the castle in an hour. Whatever it was, Morgana and Hunith were in on it.

Merlin had been giddy when he heard they were going to the castle—it was, after all, his favourite place to go. He and Arthur had spent many a day there, studying and doing other things that had _absolutely nothing_ to do with studying.

Arthur looked in his rear-view mirror. He loved Merlin for so many reasons, but the very first reason, from four years earlier, was because the first time the two had gone to the castle, before there was even a glimmer of Arthur and Merlin as anything more than roommates and friends, Merlin had said he could feel the love that surrounded the castle from his ancestors, and that if he closed his eyes he could see someone who looked like Arthur, on his horse, with a lance. He had then opened his eyes and grinned that goofy smile of his and said it would have been an honour to serve his ancestors. It had been an odd comment, but Arthur hadn't given it much thought. Merlin was often making odd comments—it was one of the many things Arthur loved about him.

"Are we there?" said a sleepy voice.

"Almost. Sorry you won't be able to sleep for a while. I tried to get Father to postpone whatever this is, but he said it has to be today."

"'s okay. I have you to lean on if I get too tired."

"That you do. Always." Arthur could see Merlin smiling, and still found it hard to believe this was really happening. He had been so sure that his plan wouldn't work, and perhaps it wouldn't have had Merlin not had his own plan. "Thank you for today. I still find it hard to believe you did this. I know how anxious you get. That took some courage to walk across the stage like that and then to show me."

"Yeah, it wasn't easy, but when I considered the alternative, of losing you, it wasn't so difficult. When I saw that you had done the same thing as me I couldn't believe it."

Merlin sounded awed by his actions, and Arthur had no doubt that Merlin probably couldn't believe what he'd done. Arthur guessed it was true that you never really knew what you were capable of until you tried.

Once they arrived and parked, Arthur helped Merlin out and they made their way to the castle, where the others were no doubt already waiting for them. Luckily, the cold, cloudy morning had given way to a comfortable, sunny afternoon.

His father had told everyone to meet on the roof, a fact that miffed Arthur because it meant Merlin would have to climb the stairs. Realising this, Uther had tried to move it to the great hall downstairs, but Merlin had insisted they do it on the roof as that was his favourite place in the entire castle.

Merlin was winded before they made it halfway to the top, but he was a trooper and, after a few breaks, they made it. Once they were on the roof, Merlin gratefully sat in a chair that Arthur's father or one of the others had brought up.

He rested for a few minutes but then insisted on going to the edge to look out over the courtyard. Arthur joined him and they stood there, arm in arm, looking out over the vast lands that Arthur's family owned.

Arthur heard Merlin's mother and his father talking, and it made him giddy with happiness. Here he was, on the roof of his ancestral home, standing by the person who meant the most to him. He squeezed Merlin's hand and couldn't believe how fortunate he was when blue eyes looked into his with such love. Arthur would never take that love for granted.

Something was placed in his free hand. He looked over at his father, who motioned for his son to look at it. Slowly Arthur brought it around so both he and Merlin could see it.

"As the two of you are aware," Arthur's father said as his son and Merlin began reading the document before them, "the castle was to be demolished in the new year. This will no longer happen. The reasons are complicated and is a conversation for another day, but all you need to know for now, Arthur, is that the castle has been put in your name. I trust that you and Merlin will take good care of it."

Arthur and Merlin looked at one another, unable to speak, and Arthur had to take several seconds to compose himself, but he was an emotional mess inside. He has many questions and would ask all of them as soon as he could. "Thank you, father," was all he could manage to get out at the moment, but he knew his father understood.

"You can thank me by making sure this castle never leaves our family." His father then left his son and Merlin alone and joined Hunith and Morgana, who were admiring the view.

"Your father gave you this castle," Merlin said in awe, his mouth open as he looked around and shook his head in wonderment. "It's yours."

"No, he gave it to us, Merlin. I can't do this without you. It's going to take the two of us," Arthur said, not quite believing this was truly happening. "Why are you looking at me like that? Are you feeling okay, Merlin?"

"Uncle Gaius's friend, Kilgharrah, told me two weeks ago, the day of the accident, something about a task that you and me would need to do together; we wouldn't be able to do it alone. I didn't give it much thought, but he has always had an uncanny way of knowing things, and well, you can't deny that what you were given today is a task we are going to do together. It's a bit weird, really."

"Not weird at all, Merlin," Arthur said, thinking back to the day Merlin first told him that he loved him. Merlin had been struggling mightily with the fact that he was falling for a boy, telling Arthur that it was weird for him to think about being with a boy when he had only ever been with girls. He had been afraid that once he committed to Arthur, he would change in some way, and that frightened him.

Arthur hadn't said much; he had merely held Merlin and listened to him talk it out and figure things out for himself. It had been heartbreaking because there was nothing Arthur could do but be there for Merlin. Merlin was the one who had to make that decision for himself.

He had eventually made his decision, and Arthur knew that no matter what else Merlin did in his life, it would probably not come close to that important decision that had changed both of their lives forever.

He took Merlin's hands in his and kissed them. "Nothing I do with you will ever be weird, Merlin."


End file.
